| Note: No sermon is quite the same when you read it. You miss the inflections, the expression that you gain in the hearing. The words below are only a close approximation of the sermon, taken from handwritten notes. Nevertheless, the words (as best as can be deciphered!) are shared with you here. The Webmeister |
Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany St. Paul in his letter to the Corinthians spoke about his ministry by saying: "To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law I became as one outside the law so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some." I feel the great weight and power of this argument in my own ministry. I have always tried (sometimes unsuccessfully) to listen first—to not prejudge those whom I met, to try and see things (as best I could) from a different point of view. (Like Paul, I have pondered the ultimate meaning of God becoming human in order to give hope to humans.) Trying to be all things to all people is part of what I think a minister of Christ Jesus' gospel must try and do—to a point! ...only to a point! Because trying to be all things to all people can become a most deadly trap and you can run the very real risk of being nothing to anyone. I have told Jimmy, as part of his training, that in order to be a parish priest you have to be content with being seen as sometimes weak, generally wishy-washy, and always a hypocrite because you must try to be all things to all parishioners and, in so doing, everyone will feel their priority within the church is being ignored. And, of course, I'm not just speaking about the predicament of an ordained priest. (St. Paul was writing his letter to fellow Christians in Corinth.) St. Paul says that we are Christ Jesus' "ambassadors" to the world around us. We have undertaken the task of Christ himself. Christ Jesus came to "reconcile" the world to God—to bring them back together, to restore love and trust. Do we all, by our life and example in this world, help restore the love and trust of God and the people we encounter? Maybe that is too big and overwhelming sounding a way to put it. Maybe I should just ask do we think of ourselves—everyday—as "ambassadors" for Christ Jesus? Jimmy and I kid around about having to be very careful what we "do" when we are wearing this fine white piece of Italian plastic that we have snapped around our necks, but does that mean we or any people who have no black shirt and white collar on are free of any obligation to pay attention to the people we encounter? Of course not! We who have found ourselves set free by Christ are now always bound by his ministry to "reconcile" the world to God. I read a quote recently from a man named Ogbonna Abarikwu who is the head of a small engineering firm in Phoenix, Arizona. He was born and raised in Nigeria and ended up in America and moved to Phoenix. When he arrived he wrote that he did not know a soul there and, looking for his first client, he went to a large gathering of municipal contractors. He sat down next to an older white man. He confessed that when he meets a white person for the first time, he looks and wonders, "Does he or she look racist? Do they want to have anything to do with a black man?" In the case of this older contractor, Abarikwu had strong doubts. The man looked unfriendly but he said "something kept him in his seat". A voice seemed to be saying, "Stay with him." (This man later helped him get his first real contract.) But the quote I was so drawn to in the story was this: Abarikwu said, "When you have freedom (in God) and you have been cleansed and you have been redeemed, you feel you can climb any mountain." It is not a heavy burden that has been set on our shoulders to make us suffer, this call to be an ambassador. Rather, it is a product of being set free. Perhaps an analogy might be the process of being set free in the 12-step AA program. The last step is to maintain your freedom by helping others become free. Yet often we forget our freedom and we forget our call. It happens to me at some point everyday. The wonderful Dutch theologian, Henri Nouwen, once asked the question, "What are the spiritual resources of ministers? What prevents them from becoming dull, sullen, lukewarm bureaucrats, people who have many projects, plans, and appointments but who have lost their heart somewhere in the midst of their activities? ...What allows them to preach and teach, counsel and celebrate with a continuing sense of wonder, joy, gratitude, and praise?" I know Nouwen is addressing primarily people like Jimmy and me with white plastic collars around our necks but he is really addressing all of us—we who try and represent Christ; we who have been given freedom; we who are called to be ambassadors—to our families, our fellow employees, the person at the grocery store, the waiter who takes our order at the restaurant, the person we encounter in an elevator. What keeps us vital and alive? How do we avoid becoming "nothing to anyone"? Perhaps a key lies in the seemingly simple story found in the beginning of the Gospel of Mark this morning. Jesus has come to Capernaum in Galilee. He has gone on the Sabbath to the synagogue. Jimmy preached last week on the healing of the man possessed by a demon, but this was only the beginning. The lesson today tells us that the people of Capernaum in the evening—at sundown—begin to arrive in ever increasing numbers, seeking healing for all manner of disease. Mark dramatically says, "The whole city was gathered around the door." And Jesus cured many far into the night and we presume into the pre-dawn hours. And then while it was still very dark—Mark tells us—Jesus got up and left the house and all the people and he went out to a "deserted" place. The word in Greek is epynov which can be translated as lonely – desolate – uninhabited – or deserted. And there Jesus went to be alone, to pray. And Mark tells us Simon Peter and his companions "hunted" for him—tracked him down—and when they found him, they said in words that sound urgent: "Everyone is searching for you." In other words, what are you doing wasting time out here all by yourself? Get back to being all things to all people. You can pray some other time when you have nothing else to do. And Jesus, who has now prayed, confounds their demands by saying so simply, "Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; because that is what I came to do." Wow! How does a minister—how does any Christian—stay alive and vital? How do they not become "dull, sullen, lukewarm bureaucrats—people who have many projects, plans, and appointments but have lost their heart somewhere in the midst of all their activities?" How do any of us maintain our sense of the power of our initial call to be free and help others find freedom? To return briefly to the story of Ogbonna Abarikwu. He says that he must daily find a place to be alone, to pray. He walks, alone (not unlike Jesus) in the desert outside Phoenix. He looks for God—listens for God—who tells him who he is. We know that without such a lonely place, our lives become chocked and clogged. We know that without silence words lose all meaning. They become babble. Without listening, speaking no longer heals. Without space, closeness may suffocate—my family, my friends, my job. Somewhere without a lonely place to remember who we are and whose we are, our actions become empty. This Church of the Epiphany is a place we need to think about our neighborhood around us. How are we ambassadors to them of the message of our Lord Jesus? But we must do this also when we are far away from this place. All things to all people? Is it a deadly trap or a profound opportunity? It all depends on whether you can remember why you were called. Being an ambassador is useless if you don't know who you speak for. The world is waiting. The Reverend James T. Tucker February 5, 2006 *Past sermons may be found here. |
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